


(To Catch a Call) You Know I’ll Be There

by borrowedphrases



Category: Power Rangers in Space
Genre: Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Guillemets for Telepathic Speech, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Simultaneous Orgasm, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Telekinesis, Telekinetic sex, Telepathic Sex, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:13:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22146241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowedphrases/pseuds/borrowedphrases
Summary: A few weeks after Zhane left to assist the KO35 refugees, Andros reaches out to connect with him across the bond they share.
Relationships: Andros/Zhane (Power Rangers)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30
Collections: Alpha's Magical Fic Exchange 2019





	(To Catch a Call) You Know I’ll Be There

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oneatatime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneatatime/gifts).



> Enjoy, my love.

It's not that Andros is ungrateful for the quiet days - days filled with chores and duties that have nothing to do with fighting and saving lives, days of long lingering meals and bouts of laughter over the comms - These days were good, _are_ good. These days of peace and routine remind him of why he became a Ranger in the first place: to make sure everyone could live out as many of these mundaneand uneventful days as possible. These days are important for refocusing and recharging so that it all doesn't become too much, too… overwhelming. It had taken him so long to get used to having people to share these quiet days with again, to having a team always around, always right there to take up space beside him. He'd been alone for so long before the Rangers from Earth entered his life, doing his best on his own for two long years-

And then it hits him, the source of his melancholy: He's gotten used to _Zhane_ being around again.

With a heavy grown Andros rolls over onto his back to stare up at the ceiling of his bunk. He hadn't even bothered taking off his jacket before flopping onto his unmade bed, it was actually impressive that he'd managed to get his books off on his way over from the door. One socked-foot now hangs off the edge of his mattress, the other resting flat against it, leg bent comfortably at the knee. He has one hand tucked between his pillow and the back of his head, and one splayed over over his stomach.

Zhane had only gotten out of cryo a few weeks - maybe a month? A little more than a month? - ago. Andros knows that, one the one hand, he has every right to want to cling to his soulmate, after being almost completely cut off from him for so long. On the other hand Zhane has every right to chose how he wants to continue being a Ranger, and he wasn't gone away completely. He's only gone off to help what's left of their people. He isn't hovering on the edge of death anymore, isn't just a whisper of a presence in the back of Andros' mind anymore. Andros could reach out to him at any moment if he really wanted to.

Wait. He _can_ reach out to Zhane at any moment!

They don't really need to close their eyes to tap into the bond they share, but sometimes it helps Andros focus when they're connecting deeply while separated by great distances. With a centering, slow exhale, he lets his eyelids drop to a relaxed almost-closed, and follows the thread between them out across the galaxy. For Andros that 'thread' has always appeared in his mind as a steady flowing stream, winding its way through the cosmos until it joins and merges with Zhane's own stream, combining into a single river. Zhane told him once that the way he visualizes it is more like they're each a different branch of one tree, reaching out in different directions, but still part of a single whole.

Andros follows the stream until the warmth of Zhane's mental presence, his soul, washes over him.

Zhane's mental presence feels relaxed, maybe a little tired and just shy of overworked, but he seems in high spirits, pleased with himself and the work he's been doing. There's a sudden increase in joy over their connection when Zhane notices Andros reaching out to him, settling in his belly like a hot drink on a cold day.

Zhane reaches out toward him, as viscerally as if he were taking Andros' hand. «Miss me already?»

Andros smiles, turning over on his side to face the back wall of his bunk as he curls inward from a burst of idiotic giddiness. He would feel thoroughly embarrassed if he didn't feel a similar reaction on Zhane's end. At least they can share in idiocy together.

«Shut up!» Andros sends the feeling of their fingers entwining to Zhane, who echos the sensation back at him with an added strength to it, like a grip. «'Course I do. It's lonely in my bunk without you here.»

A few moments of silent connection pass between them, each of them getting a sense of where the other is, how they're feeling, if they're alone or with others. Zhane seems to be winding his day down just as Andros is, the day cycle of the planet he's on syncing up for the moment with the Galactic standard the ship runs on. He's alone, lying on cot that's only just barely less comfortable than Andros' bunk. Its hot where he is, Andros can feel the heat against shirtless skin, muscles pleasantly sore from heavy work. His cheeks flush with empathetic warmth, despite it being fairly cool in Andros' quarters.

«Yeah, I'm sure it'ss only empathy,» Zhane teases, making Andros' flushed cheeks darken to a proper blush.

Andros responds by reaching one hand out slightly across his bunk, fingers curling in a vague gesture as he runs a telekinetic touch down Zhane's chest, following the soft line of pale hairs down over his breastbone all the way to his navel. He feels Zhane's shiver run down his own spine, and then giggles with Zhane when he tickles lightly at the sensitive skin just above his waistband. It's almost like an echo of a feeling when they share sensations this way, stronger on one end, but still felt on the other.

Zhane shifts on his cot, a groan starting his in throat and finding it's way to Andros'. His responding touch is that of a warm hand covering the nape of Andros' neck, of steady, strong fingers reaching up into long hair and kneading the tension from his scalp.

«I miss you too.» Zhane's affection is a burst of heat in Andros' chest, like how it feels when a flare explode out from a star. Andros' lips part to draw in a small, shaking breath as the heat winds its way down through him, into his belly and lower, collecting between his hips like fresh sun-warmed honey. As his hand moves to un-hook the clasps of his slacks, he can feels Zhane's doing the same, shared arousal growing suddenly quite strong between them. Andros' bites at his lower lip when he feels Zhane's touch on his hips, gripping, thumbs pressing down between yeilding flesh and twin bumps of bone. His breaths quicken when the touch moves lower, down over his thighs.

The 'problem' with psychokinesis is that it's not entirely bound by physiological limitations. If someone can call an image or sensation to their mind, then they can share it in a very real and physical way with someone who's soul is connected to theirs. Zhane has always been especially good at extending his mind in very creative ways, as Andros is suddenly reminded when it feels like there are four hands roaming over his skin instead of two.

 _"Oh."_ Andros shudders as one pair of sensations glides up and down the tops of his thighs, the other sliding hotly over his hips to the small of his back, then lower to gives each side of his rear and good squeeze. He's losing his grip on his own telekinesis as his body trembles from stimulation, trying to regain some shred of focus so he can give Zhane pleasure in return.

«Don't worry about it. Relax.» Zhane comforts. «I'm enjoying this just as much as you are.»

Andros whimpers, but lets his mind relax into their bond, giving in and allowing Zhane to take care of them both. He's adrift in their river, floating in sensations, warm and safe and _mind-numbingly_ aroused. Zhane's touch circles warm palms over his behind, dips down between his legs to caress his inner thighs.

Then, completely without warning or preamble, Andros feels a familiar and delicious fullness inside him, like fingers pushing into him without the ache of being stretched. It's paired with a phantom grip around his arousal, all the way from base to tip, and Andros body tries to jerk backwards and thrust forward all at once. _"Fuck."_

«Language!»

«Oh shut up.» Andros is trembling from nose to toes, squirming on his bed as his body tries to chase a friction that isn't physically there. He's breathing is jerky gasps, inhales hitching with each push of psionic fingers against his prostate, each stroke of a phantom hand along his length. There's even a rolling press against his sack now, and the glide of a thumb over his perineum. _«Don't stop.»_

«Wouldn't dream of it.»

Andros struggles for purchase, gripping at his rumpled bedding as he shudders and shakes. His sounds echo around his his quarters, echo across the bond connecting him to his soulmate. He's trying to hold on to- to anything really. His sanity most of all as he tries to fight back the crescendo of pleasure he knows is fast approaching them both.

«Come on, Andros.»

And just like that Andros let's go, his orgasm practically ripped from him by Zhane's command, pleasure cresting white hot through his mind and body as his untouched erection spasms inside his underwear, soaking right through the cloth until the fluid dribbles down onto his sheets. His hips jerk back and forth, thrusting into what should be Zhane's hand and riding on what should be Zhane's fingers. It's not just his own climax he's rolling in, he's sharing in Zhane's as well. He can feel the way Zhane balls tense differently from his own, can feel Zhane shoot in shuddering spurts rather than one burst. Their pleasure is searing white hot, twofold and euphoric, and completely, utterly, _exhaustingly_ goof.

Minutes feel like years as Andros' ragged breaths gradually start to even out, until he can finally breathe easily through his nose again, not just gasp open-mouthed like a fish out of water. His afterglow settles into his muscles like the warmth of lying in a patch of sunlight, while Zhane's is like the tingle of a hot sip of tea. They bask together quietly, beyond the need for words, beyond the need to even focus on their bond to keep it open. One river, one tree.

«It's pretty late where you are.» Zhane reluctantly breaks through the quiet of their minds, sending care and gently fretting over Andros. «You should get some sleep.»

«Stay with me?» Andros hesitantly clings to Zhane across the space separating them, like tugging at the hem of his sleeve.

«'Course.» Then, with no small amount of teasing. «No need to puppy eyes at me.»

Andros would tell him to shut up again, but he can't quite bring himself to, even with the full understanding that Zhane would know he didn't really mean it. Instead he moves, despite the pleasant exhaustion weighing down on his limbs, to do a passing job of cleaning himself up, then wiggles about to get the blanket up and over him. He can sense Zhane doing similarly on his end, until they're both snuggled up with each other on their own beds. Andros rolls over onto his side, nesting his head into his pillow, then goes delightedly still when he feels Zhane mirror his position, feels the grip of a strong arm like it's wrapping around his waist and holds him steady and tight.

«Come home soon.» Andros feels childish for even thinking this, but he can't help it, and he can't help Zhane from feeling it. «Please?»

«I will. I promise.» Zhane's grip gets a bit tighter for a second, and then there's a wave of love wrapping Andros up like a fluffy robe, the feeling so much more deep and sincere than spoken words could ever express. Andros sends his own love to Zhane in return, the pair of them holding onto that feeling as they drift off into each other's dreams.


End file.
